


Falling Down

by junko



Series: Tag, You're It... [4]
Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Cliffhangers, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Light Bondage, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4519887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nic has a crappy day; Worick's attempt to make it better... misfires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Down

Nic knew exactly how the day was going to play out, he’d been down this road so many times before. 

Sometime early afternoon the blinding headache would settle in. Every movement would become a pain; he’d slow down. His feet would shuffle like an old man’s. Then, an hour or so after the dinner hour, he’d start dropping things.

That’s when they’d jump him.

Four or five at a time, and he’d be lucky to get his arms up to shield his face. More likely, he’d just end up useless on the ground while they kicked him in the ribs and stomped on him. In some ways, it was better when they came at him when he could hardly move. They tended to get bored quicker. 

Today ended with a gratuitous kick to the balls and then some lame-ass comment of fake-surprise that he had any. Or something to that effect. Nic couldn’t read exactly what was said, there was too much blood blurring his vision along with the stinging tears.

Once they’d gone off, he closed his eyes. The grass outside the Monroe estate was cool against his swollen cheek. The sunshine was warm on his back. He could just sleep here. What was the point in getting up, anyway? It was just going to be more pain to have to limp his way to the storage locker to retrieve the Celebret he’d hidden. And, for what? It was always pain, so much pain….

But yet Nic dragged himself up with shaking muscles with one thought: he had to get up; Worick was expecting him.

Nic had a party to get to in an hour and he couldn’t go dressed like this. He needed his good jacket.

#

It was super-frustrating to literally be chained up and not able to go see what the fuck was up with Nic, Worick thought glumly. Also, this loser he was with already needed a refresher on places not to hit. They were always so excited, these new guys, the dom’s talk went in one ear and right out the other. Another smack to the kidney and Worick was going to have to press the fucking panic button. 

….which, what the fuck, was an excellent way to get Nic over here so they could talk.

Nic was there in a flash. Naturally, he said nothing, just gripped that katana and glared at the guy. Given what someone had recently done to his face and that super-fucked-up look in his eye, it was a terrifying expression. The guy made an audible gasp at the sight and dropped the corded rope and stammered, “Uh, is my time up or something?”

Nic’s nod and jerk of his thumb sent the guy scampering.

As Nic helped him undo the various buckles and such, Worick took his usual tally of Nic’s injuries. He wanted to ask ‘where the fuck was Monroe when this was happening’ but it seemed pretty obvious by how hopped up Nic was that it’d been a set-up. “Monroe cut you off, huh?”

Nic nodded.

“You know this isn’t good, Nic. There’s at least three of his informants here. At least, because that doesn’t even count half the girls who are regular snitches for him,” Worick said. “He’s going to know you ducked out again. Worse, he’s going to figure out you’ve got a stash.”

Nic shrugged. Then, quite deliberately, he looked away, as if to say: conversation over. Done. Don’t care. Don’t want to talk about it.

Ah, shit, he was like this. 

Before Nic could head back to his post, Worick grabbed him by the arm. He headed for the back door, dragging Nic in tow. When the floor manager spotted them and gave Worick a curious look, he made a smoking motion with his hand to her. She just rolled her eyes at him and mouthed, ‘again?’ to which he smiled innocently and blew her a kiss. 

_Smoke?_ Nic signed. _Where do you hide them in that get-up?_

“You’d be surprised what I got in here,” Worick laughed. 

Nic frowned and then stuck out his tongue.

“Don’t be gross. They’re in my boots.” Worick smiled. Okay, not so far gone after all. At least he would talk.That was already better. Worick hated those times when Nic was so far gone that he said nothing, not even signing, for hours, only to break the oppressive nothingness with some horrible unanswerable question like: why?

Passing through the kitchens, Worick led them out to the back stoop. The midnight air was cold on Worick’s exposed skin. A half moon shone between the narrow rooftops of the alleyway. Despite the soreness of his ass, Worick plunked himself down on the concrete steps to pull off his boot and fish out his cigarettes and lighter.

Nic leaped to the edge of a nearby dumpster and crouched there. _You look ridiculous._ His hands paused momentarily, then added _...And sore._

“You’re a fine one to talk,” Worick said, taking his first deep, satisfying drag and then leaning his back against the brick. Blowing out a long stream of smoke, he sighed, “We have to stop falling down like this.”

Looking away, Nic said nothing.

Pink neon cast an eerie glow on the cobblestones. The wind kicked a bit of garbage across the alley’s entryway. Nic’s eyes caught the movement instantly, and followed it.

Worick watched the glowing tip of his cigarette for a long moment before he said, “A guy in there says he a doctor. Maybe you should let him look at that cut over your eye.”

 _‘Says he is’?_ Nic signed. _You sure he didn’t ask you to ‘play’ doctor?_

Worick snorted a laugh. “Not tonight,” he gestured at his outfit, “Tonight is ‘naughty nurse.’ Or,” he laughed pointing to his eyepatch, “Maybe ‘nurse/pirate.”

Nic didn’t seem at all amused, even though Worick thought the pirate addition was actually a tiny bit funny. _How can you stand it?_

Worick looked pointedly at Nic’s bruises and cuts. “How can you?”

Their gaze met and held. But they couldn’t hold fire to each other, at least, not for very long. Besides, they both understood: each was just worried about the other. So, they sat in silence. Worick listened to the night sounds--laughter rising above the music, a passing car’s tires hissing, a dog’s howl in the distance. 

The air stank of garbage and exhaust, but the breeze was cool. They were together. Things were alright.

He smoked the cigarette down to the filter.

Hanging out, at least, seemed to relax both of them. Nic unwound into a more languid sitting position, one leg dangling over the edge and his arms leaned back against the closed lid. He tilted his head up and watched the moon. 

He’s still beautiful, Worick thought: Damn it. I still want to kiss him.

Stubbing the cigarette out on the steps, he let out a sigh. “You should take some pills back with you, at least. You kind of look like you could use a downer to get back to an even keel.”

_What if instead I took all the uppers and went back and killed everyone?_

Seeing sign for ‘kill’ made Worick’s eye throb. He winced, trying to staunch the sudden flow of associated images. 

Pulling himself together, he hunted around for another cigarette. The one he found was bent, but at least it wasn’t broken. “You tried that once already,” he said, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he lit up. “Remember? The man is fucking immortal.”

Nic grunted. 

“How about I go in and flirt with that ‘doctor’ and find out if he’s for real?” Worick suggested. “Then at least you can get that cut seen to.”

_Sex for stitches seems like a bad trade._

Worick flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the alley. “It’s not the worst I’ve made.”

#

Nic stayed behind as Worick went back inside. 

‘Not the worst trade I’ve made.’

It wouldn’t be a surprise to Nic if Worick regretted trading money for him. Things had not gone well since. It was not a good trade, especially since, at the time, he’d been next to useless. He was less of a burden now, but not by much.

It was hard to imagine any amount of money was worth all this.

Nic still didn’t entirely know why Worick didn’t sell his contract to Monroe, when he’d had the chance. Nic had seen the asking price. That kind of money could have gotten Worick well out of this shithole town. 

He should have taken it.

Maybe things would be easier if Worick would just let go.

Maybe things would be easier, if he did, too.

Hopping off the dumpster, Nic was just about to head back to Monroe’s when the light from the back door opening caught his attention. He turned. Worick was there, in all that mind-bending leather and lace, looking happy as a clam. He had a guy with him--thin, bespeckled and mousey-looking.

“There you are!” Worick said, clapping his hands in that overly-cheerful way he had, “Turns out Theo is a real doctor after all.”

There was something in this so-called ‘doctor’ Theo’s gaze that Nic found… worrisome. For such a mousey-man, he had eyes like a hawk. Nic just shook his head, intending to go.

Worick grabbed his sleeve. “Now, now, what did you say to me the other night?” He continued cheerfully, “I’m not interested in your bullshit right now, Nic. C’mon, you’re not afraid of a few stitches, are you?”

“It might be too late for that, anyway. There’s a very short window of opportunity for stitches,” Theo said. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he stuck one in his mouth. Worick jumped up the stairs to light it for him.

Worick flirted with everyone. Nic had seen this game play out a dozen times or more, too. It looked prettier, but it was just as ugly as the shit he’d dealt with today. Half the time it ended the same, too, with a kick in the balls. Sometimes even literally.

Not that he had any say in it, but Nic preferred it when Worick went with women. From what Nic could tell, women went to prostitutes for very different reasons--softer ones. Maybe they were just as painful in their own way, but it seemed to Nic that for a lot of men fucking a whore was a lot like beating a Tag; something you did because it gave you the fleeting pleasure of power over.

This guy, Theo, though, it was hard to tell. He didn’t have that look, and, moreover, he watched Nic very carefully, as if he was trying to figure out the exact nature of his relationship to Worick, like maybe he was worried that Nic was competition.

So maybe he was actually gay.

“So, let’s see this eye,” Theo said, waving him over. 

Worick pulled himself up on the stoops railing and fished out his pack of smokes. He casually took the burning cigarette from Theo’s mouth and lit his own with it. Theo accepted the cigarette back, just as...intimately. 

Meanwhile, Nic tried to stay still under the doctor’s scrutiny, which was easier thanks to the uppers he’d taken. He didn’t feel much of anything at the moment, except an inexplicable desire to punch Theo for…

For what?

For being Worick’s date.

“I would have thought this happened too long ago, but, actually, you could do with a couple of stitches. Let me see your hands.” Nic set down his katana and presented them without question, Theo looked at the back of his hands and, then glanced up at Nic in surprise. “You didn’t fight back? I would have thought your knuckles would be cut and bruised and swollen. Didn’t you even try to cover your face?”

Since the doctor still held his hands, Nic just shook his head. 

Theo glanced at the katana where it leaned against the railing. “You just carry that thing for show?”

Nic shrugged.

Theo glanced to Worick, said something Nic didn’t catch, and then turning back to Nic said, “Wait here. No running off.”

When the doctor went back inside, Worick explained, “He went to fetch his bag.”

 _Why did you bother?_ Nic signed. _I don’t like what this cost you._

“It hasn’t cost me anything,” Worick smiled, blowing out along breath of smoke. “Not yet, anyway. Honestly, I can’t tell if I’m getting anywhere with him.”

_You will._

“Oh? I thought so too, but what makes you say that?”

Nic leaned his butt against the opposite railing. _He watched me too carefully._

Worick waved his cigarette at Nic as though wagging a finger at him admonishingly, “ You’re the injured one. Doctors are naturally attracted to all the blood and gore. But, if he’s hot for you, too, maybe we could work out a deal. You know, you need medical attention a lot, Nic. If we had a doctor--”

Nic cut him off, “ **iF i’m tOO eXpeNsiVE, YOu sHoULd juSt Sell uP**.”

“What?” Worick looked like Nic had slapped him. He hopped off the railing, visibly shaking with anger. He flung his cigarette aside. Nic rarely saw him like this, so worked up. “Why did you say that? What the fuck, Nic? I was just kidding around about the medical bills. Why the hell are you even talking shit like that.”

_Bad trade, remember?_

“Bad trade… What!? Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ, I didn’t mean you\--”

The door creaked open. Theo stuck his head out, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Worick shifted instantly into his easy persona and pasted on one of those horrible, fake smiles. “No, no, nothing at all. Come on out, doctor, your patient is ready for you.”

Theo came out cautiously, as though expecting a firefight, with one of those classic black bags in his hand. The cigarette dangled from his lip. The burning tip reflected on his glasses, giving him the illusion of twin spots of red-gold for eyes. A sinister look for a doctor. He crouched down and dug through his bag, stuffing various implements into his pockets and tossing a stethoscope over his shoulders.

Nic wondered if that last one was a prop, like the bag, because otherwise there wasn’t much about this Theo guy seemed very doctor-like.

Well, stitches weren’t complicated. Nic could do them himself.

Worick went back to sitting on the railing opposite them. He was still upset. With the doctor busy, Nic risked signing: _My contract could make you a lot of money. More than you’d make here._

“Your…? Would you stop talking about that! What the fuck happened to the plan, Nic? Together or nothing, remember?”

Theo glanced over his shoulder at Worick’s outburst. 

Worick raised his hands innocently and laughed. “Ha, oops, um--just ignore me. I think I had too much to drink earlier.”

With his head turned, Nic couldn’t tell if Theo said anything. Standing up with a small bottle in his hands, Theo waved Nic closer. “We need to flush the wound out first. This is going to sting.”

Nic was vaguely aware of the burning, mostly the liquid felt wet and cleansing. 

Satisfied with that, Theo pulled a threaded suture out of his pocket. He didn’t bother warning Nic about the pain this time, just started to work. As he sewed, Theo drew on the cigarette still in his mouth and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth. He seemed to have perfected a way to smoke handless. In less than a half minute, he tied it off. “You need antibiotics,” he announced. “I’d take the full-course, if you can afford it.”

Worick batted his eyelashes. “Any chance I can offer you something in exchange?”

“ **nO, WoRicK, dOn’T. nOT WorTH iT**.”

Worick leaped the distance and grabbed the lapels of Nic’s jacket. Nic saw him coming in plenty of time to dodge, but--didn’t. He could have made an easy backflip over the railing, but… but some part of him wanted this, needed to feel Worick’s angry, shaking hands curled up against his chest and his hot breath against his face as he shouted, “Fucking stop this fucking bullshit about what you’re fucking worth. You’re worth everything to me. Every fucking thing, Nic. You’re. My. Friend. That’s why I did it, that night. It wasn’t about money for goods, you moron. I did it because… because….” His face went all helpless then, like there was something there so deep and raw that he just couldn’t bring up. Worick’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, “ I… fuck it, because we’re friends.”

Nic let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. Maybe it came out like a sob, he didn’t know, but it felt… like, a rush of pure oxygen--so needed that it almost made his head spin.

Letting him go with a fling, Worick added, “Even if you are a fucking idiot. Goddamn it, I need a drink.” Wheeling on Dr. Theo, Worick asked, “You going to buy me a drink or what?”

Dr. Theo didn’t even bat an eye when he said, “Sure, then how about I pay to watch you two fuck?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't kill me. I have a good half of the next section already written. You won't have to wait long, I PROMISE.


End file.
